


Those Who Take A Stand

by Nymphaeus



Series: SephirothWeek 2020 [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Accidental Anti-War Message, Character Study, Gen, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Military, No Dialogue, No Plot/Plotless, POV Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), SOLDIER (Compilation of Final Fantasy VII), Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)-centric, Sephiroth Appreciation Week, Sephiroth Appreciation Week 2020, Shin-Ra Military Propaganda, Short One Shot, Soldiers, War, Wutai War (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphaeus/pseuds/Nymphaeus
Summary: Sephiroth Appreciation Week 2020 - Day 3: Uniforms"Each year the fresh recruits who had just donned their infantry garb would look up at him and listen intently, mouths agape, eyes bright and full of hope. Not having yet realized - or effectively supressing the realization of - its utter futility."Sephiroth delivers a speech to the new Shin-Ra recruits. He reflects on his own opinions on the matter.
Series: SephirothWeek 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982950
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Those Who Take A Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Upon reflection while editing, I don't think I dislike this as much as I thought I did.  
> It is short, it gets its point across and doesn't overstay its welcome.
> 
> I was pretty liberal with the prompt. Please, cut me some slack, I was really struggling to come up with something fitting.

As Sephiroth took the podium, the crowd went wild with cheers. He tried his best to ignore how loud it was compared to the subdued applause most of the previous speakers had received.   
  
It was the same tiresome procedure each year. At times, Sephiroth wondered why he still agreed to take part in the ceremonies. Granted, he had not been given much choice. He was Shin-Ra’s poster child after all. In his own perception, there were probably other people better qualified for the task, people more eloquent. Not, that he wasn’t. He could deliver an imposing speech. He was well aware. He could inspire, rouse the hearts of the new recruits to never before experienced excitements – or so he had been told. However, he also lacked any interest in doing so. The speech had been written for him. And he had done exactly the barest minimum of giving it a brief glance-over a few minutes before he had to take the stage.  
  
Each year the fresh recruits who had just donned their infantry garb would look up at him and listen intently, mouths agape, eyes bright and full of hope. Not having yet realized - or effectively supressing the realization of - its utter futility. In their own minds they were future heroes, bound for honour and glory. With promises of a shining military career, they had taken up the arms and banners with pride. And Sephiroth would look down at the undifferentiated mass of people he would never interact with personally and if he ever did, he would be quick to forget – and they would deem it the best day of their pitiful lives.   
  
In the end, it wasn’t the horrors of the war which would turn them into one among many – the atrocities they would see and commit would merely reveal the truth of what each of them already was. Even now, still unsullied and optimistic, they were already all the same – in their aspirations, their hopes and dreams and it was laughable. Most of them awaited nothing, but a pointless death on the battle fields of Wutai. Many wouldn’t even make it to the front lines, they would perish in ambushes on the way. And the ones that did, would probably not even fall in combat. Statistically, they were more likely to get injured and waste in the fevers of infection, or if the painful treatments saved their lives, they would become unfit to serve Shin-Ra further and get send back home and there would be no honour to be found either way. For Shin-Ra, they would fight and live and die and win or lose a war that wasn’t their own. That was all.   
  
Among those who avoided becoming but casualties for a cause not their own, very few would rise into the ranks of SOLDIER. A handful only, the lucky few – as they would think – would make it to 1st Rank, only to realize how bleak even their fate truly was. There was no glory to be found with SOLDIER either, not underneath the glistening façade. When Sephiroth looked at many of the current 3rd Class SOLDIER members, then most of them were nothing but a bunch of Mako addicts, who hadn’t even realized it yet. None of them lacking the talent or conviction to rise further in the ranks. Was it worth it? He would like to ask. What had they really gotten for all their sacrifices? What had Shin-Ra given them?  
  
Oh, how the urge to voice these thoughts burned beneath Sephiroth’s skin, to break protocol and speak honestly about what the things he knew. Not, because he cared about any of the faceless young men in the crowd, their lives, or their dreams. Their lives were forfeit the day they had enlisted. Sephiroth was painfully – infuriatingly – reminded of his role in Shin-Ra’s enterprises. He could see it mirrored in the faces gazing up at him, in the admiration. He was the great General, decorated war hero, Shin-Ra’s pride. He was what each of them aspired to be. For many of them, he was the reason they were now standing there at all. Sephiroth felt no sense of guilt concerning the inevitable horrific ends that would befall most of them. He had not made the choice for them. There was only the vague sense that he was not that much different from any them and it made something inside him flare up in a seething rage. The hypocrisy of it all, made all the more apparent by the fact that he had to stand here, on stage, and play his part and bite back all the things he wanted to scream into his superior’s faces, or at the world, or just at this crowd of young men.   
  
Stick to the script, he reminded himself, after all the speech had been written for him. But he couldn’t help but grip the sides of the podium just the tiniest bit harder.  
  
What separated him from any of these Infantrymen? Talent? Power? Fate? At the end, was he really that different from any of them? He was not free in his choices, barely free in how he presented himself, which missions to take – They called him a hero. Sephiroth hadn’t made that choice for himself. Shin-Ra had.   
  
As he had finished and stepped back, the crowd cheered even louder than before. Sephiroth did his best to drown it all out. In the corner of his eye, the ranks of new recruits turned into an indistinct mass of blue and green and silver, as he left the stage.

**Author's Note:**

> Uuuh...so, this was not supposed to have such a strong anti-war message? Don't get me wrong, I'm anti-war.   
> But this was not supposed to be propaganda. Sorry, if it kind of reads like it is? Oh, the irony of that.
> 
> Tomorrow, I am going to take a break.   
> I know, "Free Day" didn't mean literally free day. I just couldn't come up with something fun.   
> But, I will be back for Day 5.
> 
> Feedback, Comments, Kudos, anything is welcome!   
> Hitting me up on Twitter out of the blue - you can find me under @FL3ANC3 - is also welcome. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
